In the Southern camp there was exultation, but it was qualified and
rather grim. These men, veterans of many battles and able to judge for
themselves, believed that they had won the victory, but they knew that it
was by no means decisive. The numerous foe with his powerful artillery
was still before them. They could see his campfires shining through
the thickets, and their spies told them that, despite his great losses,
there was no sign of retreat in Grant's camp.
An appalling night settled down on the Wilderness. The North American
Continent never saw one more savage and terrible. Twenty thousand
wounded were scattered through the thickets and dense shades, and
spreading fires soon brought death to many whom the bullets had not
killed at once. The smoke, the mists and vapors gathered into one dense
cloud, that hung low and made everything clammy to the touch.
Lee stood under the boughs of an oak, and ate food that had been prepared
for him hastily. But, as Harry saw, the act was purely mechanical.
He was watching as well as he could what was going on in front, and he
was giving orders in turns to his aides. Harry's time had not yet come,
and he kept his eyes on his chief.
There was no exultation in the face of Lee.
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